Just nothing, she told herself. Just so darned sure of himself that he puts the Indian sign on everyone. But, by gosh, I want him and I'm going to have him!

He caught her eye, came back around the car with the boot wearer's teetering, half mincing walk. Why did these yokels still wear boots, anyway, when most had scarcely sat a horse in years? He slid in at her side, tucked a cigar into his mouth, and politely proffered one to her.

``Oh, cut it out, Tom!'' she snapped. ``Can't you stop that stupid clowning for even a minute?''

``This ain't your brand, maybe,'' Lord suggested. ``Or maybe you just don't feel like a cigar?''

``I feel like getting back to town, that's what I feel like! Now, are you going to take me or am I supposed to walk?''

``Might get there faster walkin','' Lord drawled, ``seein' as how I got a busted front spring. On the other hand, howsomever, maybe you wouldn't either. I figger it's probl ' y a sixty-five mile walk, and I c ' n maybe get this spring patched up in a couple of hours.''

``How -- with what? There's nothing out here but rattlesnakes.''

``Now, ain't it the truth?'' Lord laughed with secret amusement. ``Not a danged thing but rattlesnakes, so I reckon I'll get the boss rattler to help me.''

``Tom! For God's sake!''

``Looky.'' He pointed, cutting her off. ``See that wildcat?''

She saw it then, the distant derrick of the wildcat -- a test well in unexplored country. And even with her limited knowledge of such things, she knew that the car could be repaired there; sufficiently, at least, to get them back into town. A wildcatter had to be prepared for almost any emergency. He had to depend on himself, since he was invariably miles and hours away from others.